


families come in all sizes

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brad can't deal with kids, Episode: s01e06 Stay Frosty, Gen, Headcanon, Kid Fic, Ray's great with kids, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: When Brad returned from the southern checkpoint, all he could hear was babies crying.
Relationships: Brad Colbert & Ray Person
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	families come in all sizes

When Brad returned from the southern checkpoint, all he could hear was babies crying. 

It put him more on edge than artillery or gunfire. Several of the women had already tried to give their infants to him, each time he declined. He already knew he wasn’t good with kids: he made them cry and scream just by holding them. His niece had proven that. He could see Doc Bryan checking a small child with a grim frown, the background full of men and women and bigger children, each looking stripped of life. The checkpoint was overflowing, more and more people appearing every minute. 

From Baghdad, Damon had said. Over one hundred miles away. 

Brad sighed, slipping his Kevlar off and wiping his brow. Walt offered him a bottle of water mutely, his eyes downcast. Brad accepted it with a small nod. Poke might quip about him being the Iceman, but even he could feel the guilt pulsating from Walt in waves. It was suffocating - heavy and personal - just what they didn’t need now. They couldn’t get emotionally invested in these people: they will be moving on to another objective soon, leaving these people behind. Some of the younger men were already getting attached, he’d seen Christopher holding a tiny child, looking at it like it was his own. 

He sipped from the bottle and handed it back to Walt, making his way down the line towards the LT’s Humvee. As he approached, he passed Reporter, talking to a woman with a face veil. He also spotted Gunny and Nate talking to one another just behind the barbwire. Kneeling on the ground by a Humvee was Manimal, Kevlar off but his mic headband still on. A young woman looked up at Brad from the ground, her brown eyes distant. Her hair was hidden under a Hijab, like most of the women, a water bottle glutched in her hands. He took another step forward and met Ray’s brown eyes. In his arms was a small child, with a crown of thick black hair. Ray held him so naturally, that the child looked at ease, looked around happily as Ray rubbed its shoulder with a white cloth. He smiled at Brad - too small for his dimples to show - but his eyes crinkled at the sides all the same. The mother drank from the bottle as Ray bounced the child, resting his head against its. Manimal glanced up at Brad, giving him a nod and toothless grin. Brad nodded back in a daze and turned back to Ray. 

Ray pulled a face and the child giggled, making Ray grin at it and bounce it a little more. The mother smiled tiredly, rubbing the child’s cheek with a thin finger. Ray looked completely at ease, almost comfortable and Brad couldn’t figure it out. Ray was an only child, from a small family. Just him, his mother and his grandmother. Brad supposed there could have been small children to mix with in the trailer park he grew up in. 

Q-tip called out to Nate that battalion wanted them on the move, so Brad left it. 

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, they were back in the Humvees, travelling along another dirt road in silence. Trombley was up on the M-19, Walt in the back, not covering his sector again. Brad sighed but didn’t comment: the area was deserted. He could hear Reporter’s pencil scribbling behind him. 

“Do you have any siblings Ray?” Reporter asked out of the blue. 

“Nope.” Ray responded. Brad furrowed his brow, tilting his head to better hear conversation. 

“How did you get so good with kids then?” 

Ray laughed, “What makes you think I’m good with kids’ homes?” 

“You held one… before at the roadblock. You made him giggle.” 

Brad turned to Ray when he didn’t answer right away. He had a small smile on his face as he said over his shoulder. 

“I don’t have any siblings, but my grandpa was one of ten and my mom’s the youngest of three so, big family, lots of cousins and second cousins with kids and shit.” Brad blinked and stared at Ray. Ray glanced at him and grinned. 

“Wow,” Reporter said, “How come you haven’t mentioned them before?” 

Brad tilted his head at Ray, raising his eyebrow. Ray shrugged, “My grandpa was the guy who did the reunions, he died when I was seventeen, so I haven’t really seen many of them since. There’s no point everyone coming from Rhode Island to visit three people in the middle of Missouri, and it’s not like a single mother in America’s current social-economic status can afford to fly over for a long weekend.” 

“Your family’s from Rhode Island? Why do you live in Missouri?” 

Ray shook his head, “My dad was a Missouri guy, Mom moved to marry him and shit. My grandpa jumped ship cause his best friend lived in Illinois.” 

Reporter was nodding along, scribbling what he wanted down. Brad watched Ray though, how his mouth tightened when he mentioned his father and how his eyes grew solemn when he mentioned his grandpa. Brad had always been impressed about how easily Ray dealt with his absent father. Brad, in his formative years, had displayed the stereotypical behaviour of an adopted child. The hatred of his adopted parents, the feelings of inadequacy, the need to know why. Ray apparently skipped that, _“Why should I care about a douchebag I’ve never met?”_ he'd said in Australia, after two beers. 

“Wow,” Reporter said again. He opened his mouth to ask another question when Ray cut him off. 

“You know Reporter, you’ve enlightened me to how you pussy, civilian, blue state homosexuals overuse the words ‘wow’ and ‘oh my god’. You’d think with how much liberal’s care about education, they’d make sure kids don’t use words in the wrong contexts, like the word ‘literally’ for instance.” 

Brad grinned out of his window and settled in for another long rant. Reporter didn’t seem overly phrased by Ray’s change in subject, he probably hadn’t realised that'd been exactly what Ray intended. He listened with half an ear as they trailed down the dirt road. He’d have to wheedle the rest out of Ray over drinks stateside, he decided: he wanted to learn more about Ray’s extended family: there were good surfing spots on Rhode Island.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the gifs at:  
> https://luli-luz.tumblr.com/post/170461750117/dont-give-that-thing-to-me
> 
> Bonus Round: guess the Band of Brothers character I headcanon as Ray's Grandpa


End file.
